A Herald's Tale
by LadyToFu
Summary: Darkness closed around Arkle and his people like a blackgloved fist. Many fled. Yet, for the duty and honor of his Brotherhood, the Herald vowed to stand... and fight... finished!
1. Author's Note

Author's Note:  
  
Point #1: I don't own any which M.Lackey created. Which I guess is pretty obvious, but I think I'm supposed to say it anyway.  
  
Point #2: blah means thought in this fic. (Sorry about the continual change folks, but my italics won't work so I'm trying out different things.)  
  
Point #3: I'm actually finished with this fic, which is why I decided to post it up even though I don't like working on two stories at once. (^.^) I'm still editing though, so please review! 


	2. Ch1

A quick turn of his head let Herald Arkle know the guards were still chasing him. Snails, how am I going to get out of this one? he thought as he darted into a side alley and hid. His hand automatically touched his breast, making sure "it" was still there. Such a powerful relic must be kept in the hands of Good!  
  
After receiving this assignment, Arkle had planned the perfect burglary. He was always a painstakingly thorough planner, but he had had to anticipate absolutely every angle for this job. Nothing he had ever done before had been this risky, and that was saying something. Trained by a master thief and warriors from the cradle, Arkle was the best of the best. However, breaking into any royal palace was, after all, no mean task. Breaking into a Mage-King's palace was impossible. Well, almost.  
  
What is the old saying...set plans never last past the first attack?  
  
His plan had gone so flawlessly in the beginning too. He had successfully broken into the Mage's lair and filched the artifact: carefully stowing it away. Then, that darned bird had shown up, letting out the most unholy squawks. As if that weren't bad enough, the first person to respond to the nasty winged-rat had been the Mage. Arkle had fairly flown out of that room. Yet, he barely made it out with his life. He could still smell the ground burning around him as the mage launched bolt after levinbolt.  
  
That had been nearly three hours before. The situation had been flee and hide since then. Between the Mage-King's guards chasing him left and right, traps around every corner, and the ever-present threat of mage- attack; Arkle was fair exhausted. However, he pressed on. He had a mission to complete.  
  
A sudden thunder of steps jolted Arkle into a keener state of awareness. He crouched like a cat ready to spring, listening for the smallest hints of sound. It seemed an eternity before he felt he could move again. But slowly, he crept out of his hiding place. No point in staying there forever, after all. Taking stock of his location, Arkle realized he was only a stone's throw away from the Sanctuary. If he could only make it there, the Mage's power could not reach him. After a furtive look around, Arkle decided to sprint there directly. He knew that he was on his last legs. This would be an all or nothing run.  
  
Turning toward the offered safety, Arkle prepared to sprint when a large figure suddenly blocked his path.  
  
"I've got you now..." laughed the mage darkly, his eyes glowing fiendishly blue.  
  
"No!!" shouted Arkle, rushing the Mage with all his might. He must complete his mission! However, even as he did so, Arkle knew that all was lost... 


	3. Ch2

The Herald-Mage Lady Elspeth walked down a narrow palace corridor and pulled at a loose strand of hair, barely visible against the front of her lavish white uniform. An annoyed frown tugged her lips as she studied the long, thick white strand. Not that she minded her increasingly frosty mane too much. It was, after all, an unavoidable side effect of working with powerful node energies--and she had needed to work with those energies constantly.  
  
Only a little over a decade after the magic was first broken, and we've nearly completed an entirely new network of ley-lines and nodes Elspeth realized. Thinking back on the years of hard work the Talyedras and Heralds had devoted to restoring magic to the way it was, she was filled with a sense of awe and pride. She herself had put in countless hours helping to craft "streambeds" for mage energies to pool. There were some very strong ley-lines now available in Valdemar. In fact, it was mostly due to the work of Darkwind and herself that the Haven Heartstone continued to flourish despite continual use. Many more ley-lines, and eventually nodes, would grow in power, but that would take time. Despite everything Darkwind and I have been able to accomplish through magic, time is something we can neither speed up nor slow down she thought with a wry grin.  
  
A sudden flood of sound brought Elspeth out of her reverie. Dropping the white hair she was still holding, she stopped and looked about, trying to determine the source of the ruckus. She wasn't left in wonder long. Elspeth turned a nearby corner just in time to see a set of double doors burst open and a little army tumble out.  
  
Elspeth fumed with exasperation. She watched as the "army" of six little boys and girls debated on their next maneuver. All told, it was an adorable sight, given that many of the would-be soldiers wore their own versions of armor. In the case of one little girl, fat pillows were tied to her front and aft like a brigandine, barely allowing her to move. Elspeth was not amused. She watched silently as the children sorted themselves into a line and marched (or ran, depending on leg-length) past her. No few of those shirts were torn or dirty, and Elspeth cringed at what the rooms would look like. She debated whether she really wanted to go through the doors or not.  
  
:.Ashke?.: came a silky strong voice inside her head. :.I thought I sensed you out there. No don't come in quite yet. Herald Master-Thief and now Mage Arkle, the world's greatest warrior, is about to make his move. Oh my. My son has a most vivid imagination. You should hear this speech. .:  
  
:.YOUR son?.: shot back Elspeth wickedly. :.And who was it that was pregnant for nine months, six of which were absolute misery? Who went through hours of pain and suffering? Who... .:  
  
:.Alright, alright. OUR son .: came the amused reply. :. Oop, hold on, it looks like he's about ready to call final strike on me. .:  
  
:. Final strike... OH NO. .: Elspeth had a sudden urge to hit her dear husband. She knew how this would end, and she could almost hear Gwena snickering in the back of her head. Every time they played this particular game, Arkle insisted that his father "die" in a spectacular manner. Darkwind was an indulgent father. Between scattered pillows, blankets and what-not, the room would look like it had been hit by a REAL final strike-- or at least a severe storm. :.Darkwind... .:  
  
:. No worries, Bright One. I'm just going to cast a minor light illusion this time .: replied Darkwind brightly. Elspeth could almost taste the laughter in his mind.  
  
Some how that didn't comfort her. Sighing, Elspeth reminded herself how very much she loved her husband and son. :. Alright just tell me when I can walk in. Kernos, you know it's not node-energies turning my hair white. It's you and Arkle. .: 


	4. Ch3

"...and as long as my brethren stand, Valdemar will never fall!" concluded Arkle, a smile of triumph crossing his cherubic face. His cheeks, still round with baby fat, blushed pink with all the effort of his long speech. "Surrender evil wizard or pay the price!"  
  
"Oh! I yield brave one!" replied Darkwind theatrically, falling to one knee with exaggerated care. A hand artistically placed over his heart, Darkwind gave the impression of a great tragic hero-- albeit a disheveled, overly dramatic one  
  
Thrown off guard, and more than a little disgruntled, Arkle glared at his father. "Dad!! We're playing final strike! That means you can't surrender and I have to call final strike on you."  
  
Letting out a great sigh, Darkwind lowered his arms to the ground. Then, without warning, he crumpled to the ground, a great heap of hair and clothes.  
  
"Dad? Dad!?" began Arkle, a worried frown making him look surprisingly like his mother. He began to walk toward the fallen figure, when he heard low laughter.  
  
As Arkle watched, eyes wide with anticipation at his father's latest game, Darkwind rose. The laughter turned into a truly evil cackle by time Darkwind fully stood. His previously disheveled robes were now a wrinkled mess, and his hair was tangled beyond redemption. He truthfully looked like a crazed mage. Strange lights sparkled in his eyes, as Darkwind suddenly lunged toward Arkle. "Ha! Ha! You see I've fooled you Herald Arkle! I was only PRETENDING to be surrendering when really...I was transforming myself into the even more powerful evil super-mage! Prepare to face ME!"  
  
Arkle squealed as he dodged his father's extended arms. He could feel a building pressure around him, like the air before lighting. A real spell! He was sure of it! Running behind an over-turned chair, Arkle spun himself around to face his father. Planting his slightly chubby feet wide apart and with his arms raised far above his head, Arkle shouted his last cry of defiance. "I will never surrender to evil! I will call FINAL STRIKE!"  
  
With those dramatic words, bursts of light appeared around the room. Arkle blinked, then stared, forgetting all about Heralds and Mages as spirals and streaks of color filled the air around him.  
  
Minutes later, as the last glowing trails of the light show disappeared; a gentle hand touched his downy brown hair. Arkle turned, his bright blue eyes meeting his mother's grey-blue.  
  
"Sweet, it's time for a bath and bed," she whispered into his ear, as she picked him up in her arms.  
  
"But mom! I'm not tired..." yawned Arkle. "I want to play Herald again."  
  
Elspeth laughed a warm chuckle. "Tomorrow dear heart. Your father has already gone for his bath too, you know. Besides, if you're good tonight and get up extra early tomorrow, you can join me for a ride on Gwena."  
  
Perking up at the offer, Arkle nearly knocked his mother over as he wriggled out of her arms and ran toward the bathing room.  
  
Smiling, Elspeth turned around and began to pick up the pillows strewn around the room's floor.  
  
:. Gwena darling, you will oblige won't you? .:  
  
Sweet scents seemed to surround her as Gwena Sent her consent. :. It'll be more than a pleasure to be a part of yet another Herald's tale. .:  
  
Elspeth could only smile in reply. 


End file.
